Hopkins 4K for Cancer

July 26, 2006

Groveland, CA
Yosemite to Groveland, 70 miles

The day out of Yosemite on Route 120 was almost as picturesque as the day into the park. We expected almost all downhill, but we were, for the most part, surprised to find that the road was a worthy foe, rolling as frequently as the foothills of the Ozarks, only with greater inclines. Pines and chicory trees loomed tall over us. As we descended into Yosemite Valley, hot gusts of air came up to meet us. They smelled like air fresheners and exhaust.

People seem to be on edge as the end of the trip nears. I can’t prove it with quantifiable evidence, but I feel that vibe. I think people are nervous about losing friendships they’ve built on the trip and not knowing what to do when they get back home. Certainly we’re all tired and smelly and most of us are homesick. We’re a little sick of each other, too. We haven’t had a large community dinner for a long time, either, so we haven’t had any new inspiring stories about cancer survivors and their family and friends. I, for one, was in a particularly nasty mood today.

But all that’s just fine. This trip is an organic thing. The group can only remain stable through an unending series of minute changes, little dips and rises in morale and drama, constantly tweaking and re-tweaking the collective sanity. Too much emotion and gossip is overwhelming, too little is boring. Such is life.

I found myself thinking about what wakeup music I would prepare for the next few days. Raffi and I have been making some 4K-themed music and skits throughout the trip using a program called GarageBand, and we’ve been playing it in the mornings. They’re usually pretty funny. I also found myself thinking about the meadows around the campground. I’ve had never seen such hardcore meadows before. The juxtaposition of the pain we felt climbing up Tioga Pass into the park while passing next to unbelievably fairy tale-like babbling brooks and green grass was difficult to handle. I wanted to jump between the slender bends of two of those streams and have my photo taken for my ID card in heaven. Those streams fed into clear lakes with tiny fish that would suck on your toes. I’ve always grown up next to forests and ponds with the Appalachians just a few hours away. Could an east-coast boy ask for more eye candy?

Tonight, we’ll be heading down to the local restaurant to get dinner. We’re staying at Tenaya Elementary School, which has incredibly well-designed showers. I commented earlier to a few friends that Brazil is to soccer as California is to life. At least, that’s the way it seemed on the broad and long slopes as we entered the Sierra Nevadas. So far, this much-praised state has lived up to my prediction: beautiful scenery, beautiful women, and sweet water.

-Ersin